


I Want to Believe

by monsterleadmehome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aliens, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Hermione Granger, Auror Partners, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Government Conspiracy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, It's an X-Files AU, Monster of the Week, Monsters, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29102007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome/pseuds/monsterleadmehome
Summary: There's something strange happening in the Wiltshire countryside--crop circles, cattle mutilations, strange lights in the sky. Auror Draco Malfoy has been working the Ministry's weirdest cases for several years, but he's got a hunch there's something more at play here. When Hermione Granger is assigned to be his partner, the two become embroiled in a conspiracy that goes deeper than they could ever have imagined.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 113





	1. Preview

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! This fic is the result of me being up late one night and seeing on an episode of Ancient Aliens that the UK's Area 51 just happens to be located in Wiltshire (which is, coincidentally where the majority of the crop circles also appear). What else is in Wiltshire? Oh, just Malfoy Manor. Somehow that led to me thinking a Dramione X-Files AU would be a good idea.
> 
> Anyway, the first chapter will officially post on February 21st. But until then, here is a little preview, along with the absolutely GORGEOUS artwork I commissioned from [Flyora](https://flyora.tumblr.com/). I highly recommend working with her!

Several Muggles gathered around the edge of the field, chattering excitedly. He recognized most of them from the village or neighboring farms. He pushed past several of them, garnering some sly looks from the older ladies. As he slid past, he heard them say things like  _ It just appeared overnight _ and  _ Do you think it was the aliens? No, probably just Joe’s drunken sons playing a prank. _

“What’s going on?” He used his authoritative Auror tone. 

At the front of the crowd, the farmer stood—looking much like a painting in his overalls and holding a scythe. He turned to Draco. “About twenty-five percent of my harvest ruined, that’s what.”

Then Draco saw it—smack in the middle of the tall barley stalks, there was a gap. The stalks had been bent at a ninety degree angle, but were not snapped. He couldn’t see very far, but it looked like the gap carried on for quite a ways into the field. He’d need to see it from a higher vantage point. He walked closer to the farmer. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Draco Malfoy.”

The farmer gave him a hardy handshake. “Yeah, I see you running past sometimes. Name’s William Jones. I own this farm. Best barley in Wiltshire.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. So what happened to your field?”

“Hell if I know. Everything was fine last night when I went to bed. Some of the neighbors say they saw some crazy lights in the sky around three AM, but I don’t know if I trust them. It’s likely some kids from the pub decided it would be funny to ruin a man’s crops.”

Draco nodded as if he understood, but he was a little perplexed by how calm everyone seemed. Was this a regular occurrence for them? “Has this, uh—happened before?”

“Not to me, but several years ago Smith’s crops were ruined by one of these… formations. People came from all over to take pictures and his harvest was impacted. Took him a while to recover from the loss. I guess I should consider myself lucky they didn’t go as big this time.”

Draco let Mr. Jones return to his disgruntled rambling as he ran back out onto the road looking for a nearby hill to climb. He spotted one that looked like it might be tall enough and headed that direction. His now damp sweatshirt clung to him as he reached the peak and looked out onto the field. What he saw nearly took his breath away.

A perfect geometrical figure had been pressed into Mr. Jone’s barley. It looked a little like a mandala or some of the alchemical symbols he’d seen in his reading. It was intricate and precise—how could a pair of drunk teenagers create something like this overnight? He looked around to make sure no one was watching before sliding his wand out from his sleeve and summoning his camera. He snapped a few photos and contemplated it for a few moments before beginning the long trek home to shower and get ready for work.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...
> 
> Many thanks to raven_maiden and obsessivepropulsive for alpha/beta work.

The sun was beginning its ascent over the rolling, verdant hills as Draco paused for a breath. It was earlier than he usually began his morning run, but he couldn’t sleep. He toed the gravel of the road and inhaled deeply, the dewy country air filling his lungs. He could hear bleating sheep in the distance, themselves waking for a long day of chewing grass and napping in the Wiltshire sun. He almost envied them.

Another deep breath and he continued on, his Muggle trainers carrying him across the uneven road. He had tried other shoes, but nothing absorbed the impact of the pavement quite like these. It was ironic how second nature so many Muggle things had become. 

_ “Draco Malfoy, you are hereby sentenced to ninety days in Azkaban, upon the completion of which you will be relocated to a Muggle village in Wiltshire and take up a position in the Ministry. This probationary period will last a minimum of five years, with annual meetings to determine the state of your rehabilitation.”  _

_ Draco felt his shoulders slump with relief. Ninety days was nothing compared to the twenty-five year sentence his father received. Now there was no one else to worry about. His mother had gotten off nearly scot-free, a year-long house arrest to be carried out in the Manor. He was thankful for that.  _

_ Harry Potter offered him a stiff nod before he stood to leave Draco had expected to see The Boy Who Lived at his trial. After all, his mother had helped save his life. But it was Harry’s erstwhile companion that Draco did not expect. He looked past the approaching guards, his eyes scanning the room until he saw a bushy head of hair, exiting along with the rest of the crowd.  _

_ He wanted to know exactly why Hermione Granger had spoken up for him, when he had never so much as given her the courtesy of being treated like a human being. But as the shackles were placed around his wrists, he had more pressing things to worry about. _

Draco had been so lost in the memory that he nearly didn’t realize he was coming up on the Manor. He briefly contemplated going up to see his mother, but he knew she would still be sleeping. The moment he breached the wards, she’d likely have the elves prepare a decadent breakfast, and he’d end up replacing more calories than necessary.

He continued on.

Green pastures gave way to fields of wheat and barley. Draco had really come to appreciate the scenery in his hometown. Growing up, he had never really noticed much beyond the Manor. The Malfoys would travel via Floo, or he’d side-along with his father. And of course they never bothered to fraternize with their Muggle neighbors. 

Now, he found new appreciation for the lush hills, the ancient stone formations, the little villages, the other impressive manor houses. It was quaint without being cloying, rich in history and farmland. To his shock and initial disgust, his Muggle neighbors had treated him with kindness and acceptance. He was still withdrawn, but eventually they'd still won him over. Some days, he almost felt like he belonged to their world as much as his own. As Draco rounded a curve in the road, he noticed a small crowd had gathered in front of one of the farms. He jogged towards it to get a closer look.

They were gathered around the edge of the field, talking excitedly. He recognized most of them from the village or neighboring farms. He pushed past several of them, ignoring the sly looks from the older ladies, and tuning into the murmurs. 

_ “It just appeared overnight.” _

“ _ Aliens, no doubt about it— _ ”

_ “No, probably just Joe’s sons playing a prank— _ ”

“What’s going on?” Draco used his authoritative Auror tone. 

At the front of the crowd, the farmer stood—looking much like an oil painting in his overalls and holding a scythe. He turned to Draco. “About twenty-five percent of my harvest ruined, that’s what.”

Then Draco saw it. Smack in the middle of the tall barley stalks, there was a gap. The stalks had been bent at a ninety degree angle, but weren’t snapped. He couldn’t see very far, but it looked like the gap carried on for quite a ways into the field. He walked closer to the farmer. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Draco Malfoy.”

The farmer gave him a hardy handshake. “Yeah, I see you running past sometimes. Name’s William Jones. I own this farm. Best barley in Wiltshire.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. So, what happened to your field?”

“Hell if I know. Everything was fine last night when I went to bed. My neighbor says he saw some lights in the sky around half-three, but he’s rat-arsed by noon most days, so who can say. I reckon it’s some kids from the pub who decided it would be funny to ruin a man’s crops.”

Draco nodded, a bit perplexed by how calm everyone seemed. “Has this, uh—happened before?”

“Not to me, but a few years back, Smith’s crops were ruined by one of these… pranks. People came from all over to take pictures. Took him a while to recover. I guess I should consider myself lucky they didn’t go as big this time.”

Draco let Mr. Jones return to his disgruntled rambling as he ran back out onto the road. He spotted a nearby hill that looked like it might be tall enough to climb, and headed that direction. His now damp sweatshirt clung to him as he reached the peak and looked out onto the field. What he saw nearly took his breath away.

A perfect geometrical figure had been pressed into Mr. Jone’s barley. It looked a little like a mandala, or some of the alchemical symbols he’d seen in his reading. It was intricate and precise—how could a few drunk teenagers create something like this overnight? Draco looked around to make sure no one was watching before sliding his wand from his sleeve and summoning his camera. He snapped a few photos and contemplated it for a few moments before beginning the long trek home to shower and get ready for work.

* * *

Hermione finished twirling her bountiful curls into a bun and cast a charm to keep it in place. She fingered the gold locket around her neck—the one she wore everyday, containing a picture of her parents—and set off for work.

Healer training had been long and difficult, but right before she was about to receive her official certification, Harry had come to her—along with Minister Shacklebolt. They’d told her that although the Auror department wasn’t hurting for new recruits, the ones they had were hurting. 

After the war, countless bright-eyed Hogwarts alumni had applied to work in the DMLE, believing they could help make the world a better place. The bar to join the Auror Department had been low at the time, thanks to the casualties from the war. 

But everyone had quickly realized that most of the new recruits were underskilled and underprepared for the job. Even those who did have what it took to track down Dark wizards often didn’t have what it took to survive those encounters. 

Harry and the Minister had told her that adding Hermione Granger to the ranks, thereby completing the Golden Trio, would be a huge morale booster. Not to mention that her Healer training could prove to be very useful in the field. Hermione had smiled sweetly at the time and told them no, resolving to lay into Harry the next time she saw him for not giving her fair warning 

She hadn’t agreed the second time Harry asked her. Or the third. She had enjoyed her work as a Healer, and felt she was needed more there. So when she’d completed her training, she started on at St. Mungo’s as planned. It had taken a single harrowing weekend working triage to change her mind. 

She’d shown up at the Ministry the following week, claiming the opportunity to work alongside Harry and Ron again was too tempting for her to resist. They’d hired her on the spot. Most days, she never looked back. She’d grown to love being an Auror. But her relationship with Ron had been a casualty of the decision. 

Thankfully, she and Ron had agreed to stay friends when they parted ways, and she moved out of Grimmauld Place. Her small flat was in Muggle London, but quite close to the Ministry. Most days she even walked to work, when the weather permitted. Such as today. 

Hermione swung open the door to her favorite coffee shop at exactly half-eight, smiling when she saw that the fit Muggle barista already had her order prepared—a double-shot latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“How did you know I’d be in?”

He brushed his dark fringe to the side before replying. “It’s Monday. You almost always stop in on Mondays.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” She reached for her wallet to grab the three quid needed.

“On the house today.” He grinned and shrugged. “Just had a feeling.”

Hermione didn’t usually put too much stock in  _ feelings _ , but she smiled back anyway, a light blush tinging her cheeks. “You’re too kind—”

“Jeffrey,” he said, shifting his apron so she could see his name tag.

She nodded and started backing away, so he could help the waiting customer. “Thanks again, Jeffrey.”

Hermione’s latte was half gone by the time she arrived at her desk, still wearing a slight grin. 

“Somebody’s in a good mood for a Monday,” Harry said, dropping a file in front of her.

“I think the bloke at the coffee shop was flirting with me.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhm. He gave me this latte for free.”

“Excellent.” Harry pushed his glasses up and rested himself on the edge of her desk. “It’s about time you got back out there.”

“I didn’t say I was going to date him.” Hermione leveled him with a glare. “And what do you mean, ‘ _ it’s about time _ ?’”

“Ron’s already been through like three girls.”

“Yes, well, I think it’s hardly fair to compare us in that regard. Did you see the sort of girls they were?”

“Good point.” He hopped down. “Have fun with the paperwork from last week’s manticore seizure.”

Hermione groaned and took another swig of her latte as she opened the file. Jeffrey had been right about her needing the caffeine.

* * *

Draco paused from his file on Muggle-born reparations fraud and looked at the photos he’d taken again. The barley rustled in the breeze, but other than that, it was nearly indistinguishable from a Muggle photo. He had tried some research in the Ministry archives, but there was hardly anything to be found on the strange crop formations. He absently tossed a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth to work on as he ruminated. Ever since he quit smoking, he’d needed the physical distraction of chewing, and he hated gum.

He decided he’d go to the Muggle library at lunch. 

Draco signed in to use one of the free library computers, and clicked the internet explorer browser. Back when he first joined the Department, he’d learned how to use a Muggle computer in case he ever needed to research something that couldn’t be found from Ministry resources alone. The Office of Misinformation was often backlogged these days, so Harry had insisted on incorporating Muggle computers into their training program. It had turned out to be an invaluable skill, and he even purchased a computer for his own cottage. He got a sick sense of satisfaction imagining how his father’s face might look if he ever saw his son adopting such pursuits.

He tried several combinations of words before the search engine finally asked,  _ did you mean crop circles?, _ and returned a plethora of results. Draco’s eyes widened as he scrolled, taking in all kinds of images that looked similar to what he’d seen in Mr. Jones’ field. He opened his notebook and began scribbling down pertinent info — dates, locations. He sketched the shapes, one after another, until his hand was aching and the grumbling in his stomach reminded him of the time. 

He grabbed a pesto panini and ate it quickly on his way back to the Ministry. There was a fire in his gut about this case, so he headed straight for Head Auror Gawain Robards’ office. 

“Malfoy, is this going to be another one of your wild goose chases?” Robards was a good boss, and trusted his Aurors, but he also had a low tolerance for nonsense. Draco had learned this the hard way when several of his leads ended in dead ends with no explanations. He knew there had been more, but suddenly the trail went cold. He didn’t want the same thing to happen here.

“No, Sir. I just have a feeling there’s something more going on here. Perhaps something the Muggles can’t see.”

“And you’re caught up on all your other cases?” He scratched his coppery brown beard while contemplating.

“Yes, Sir.” He didn’t add that all his recent cases had been mostly paperwork, or that he’d finished them all the same day he’d been given them. “You know, I’d be of better use if I were allowed in the field more often.”

Robards sighed. “I know. You’re a good Auror, Malfoy. But we don’t have a partner at the moment for you, and we can’t risk sending you out alone. It’s a case by case basis until you’re partnered up. You know this.”

“Five years and you still don’t trust me.” Draco intuited what he wasn’t saying—no one  _ wanted _ to be his partner.

“It’s not that. It’s policy.” 

“Fine.”

“Work your little crops case, if it will make you happy. Just don’t let it interfere with your other work. I have people I need to answer to as well.”

“I know. Thank you, Sir.”

Draco returned to his office—hardly more than a broom closet on the outskirts of the Auror Headquarters—with a little more pep in his step. Robards had been more understanding than usual. He wondered if the man was finally beginning to trust him, or if he was just distracted by other things and didn’t have the time to argue.

He read over the notes he’d gathered at the Muggle library and thought about the strange history of Wiltshire. He’d always just assumed that there were natural energy patterns there that made magical folks congregate around it, but after researching further, he realized that the Muggles were fascinated with it as well. And there had been paranormal phenomena happening there for centuries. Of course Stonehenge was a huge draw, but there were dozens of other ancient sites drawing people, both magical and Muggle, from all over the world.

The crop circles were no exception. As he looked at a static photo he’d printed out, a memory suddenly hit him.

_ He was eight years old and really becoming a whiz at riding a broom. His father wore a proud smirk on his face as Draco zoomed further from the ground. He’d never been so happy in all his life. He wanted to show off a little more. They were near the edge of the property whenDraco took off with speed, the wind roaring in his ears. He had a moment to watch his father race for his own broom before he was shooting down the drive and soaring up, up, and over the trees.  _

_ His father caught up to him almost a mile away, where he was hovering over a field. _

_ “Draco, come back at once, you foolish—!” _

_ “What is that, Father?” Draco pointed down at the ground where he was staring, transfixed. There, in the middle of the wheat stalks was a symbol, seemingly pressed into the field. _

_ “None of your concern.” _

_ He shivered as a Disillusionment Charm was cast over him, and with another a wave of his father’s wand, his broom began zooming back in the direction it had come.  _

_ When they returned, he got a lashing worse than any one he could remember. He never ventured past the Manor’s wards again. _

Draco sat back in his chair, eyes tightly shut. He wasn't sure how he'd forgotten until now, but it at least explained why this case was itching at him. He reached for his bag of sunflower seeds and returned to his notes, even more determined to figure this out.

* * *

It was mid-week and Hermione was restless. Her partner, Ikapati Soledad, had just left for maternity leave, so she was left catching up on paperwork and being generally bored. She flicked an errant crumb of  _ something _ that Ron had dropped on her desk earlier when he stopped by while eating a sandwich.

Ron was Harry’s partner, which was logical—the two of them had always worked well together—though it left her feeling like the odd man out on occasion. She didn’t mind it so much, even as she had cycled through several partners in the span of the past few years. However, she did occasionally wonder what life would have been like if she had stayed on as a Healer. She always reassured herself with the knowledge that she had aided in saving so many lives on the front end in her time as an Auror. She knew she had made the right call. 

She was interrupted from her wistful reverie as an interdepartmental memo landed on her desk. It was bright pink and unfolded itself neatly before her. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she read what was being requested—a meeting with both Head Auror Robards and Minister Shacklebolt. She grabbed her quill, quickly penning a reply and sending the memo back.

A little thrill went down her spine. If the Minister was involved, it must be important.

Hermione threw herself into the file she was working on, in an effort to distract from the butterflies in her stomach. She imagined being put on some kind of exciting top secret project, or being tasked with an extremely difficult case that no one else had been able to solve yet. At three o’clock, she took a brief look in her pocket mirror, making sure her hair didn’t have any flyaways and checking her teeth for bits of food. Then she took the lift up to the Minister’s office.

“Good Afternoon, Auror Granger.” Minister Shacklebolt offered her a warm smile as she sat down next to Robards. “We’ve been very impressed with your work these past couple years.”

“Thank you, Minister.”

“We asked you here because we have a new partner assignment for you.” Robards had moved the other chair so he could face Hermione. 

Her face must have shown her confusion. New partner assignments didn’t usually require a meeting. 

“I know normally there wouldn’t be a formal meeting for something like this, but we wanted to approach this situation with caution.” Robards leaned forward a little, meeting the Minister’s eye and then continuing. “We’d like you to partner with Auror Malfoy on his current case—and future cases.”

Hermione had to work at keeping her expression neutral. It was no secret that Draco Malfoy was the bottom rung of the Auror ladder—some Junior Aurors received better cases. “Oh?”

Minister Shacklebolt nodded his head. “Not only that, but we’d like you to deliver your case reports directly to us.”

Hermione tilted her head a little. “And what would be the reasoning for this change in protocol?”

Robards offered her a wary grin. “Recently Malfoy has taken on some increasingly strange cases, and we’re going to allow him to investigate them in the field. We’d just like another set of eyes, is all.”

She straightened in her chair. “I see. With all due respect, I think you’re making the right choice. I think it’s time he was given more responsibility.”

Robards and Shacklebolt exchanged a look she couldn’t quite parse. “Yes, well, we’ll be relying on your methodical reporting and attention to detail, which is why we selected you to be his partner,” the former said.

She was starting to catch on, not quite sure if she was comfortable with the direction this was heading. “Am I to understand, Sirs, that you wish me to be his babysitter?”

The men shared a nervous chuckle, but it was Kingsley who spoke up. “Hermione, we wish you to use your expertise with Healing and Muggle culture to help Auror Malfoy in any areas he may fall short.”

“I see. And you’re aware that Auror Malfoy and myself have a troubled history?”

Robards nodded. “I think this will further benefit the partnership. The two of you will have to learn to work together quickly.”

She nodded, contemplating. While she felt that the rest of the department treated Malfoy unfairly and that it was a shame no one had wanted to partner with him previously, she wasn’t sure if  _ she _ wanted to be the one to work cases with him. He had a reputation for being a little unorthodox—not to mention the stigma of being a former Death Eater. Shit, was she actually feeling sympathetic for Draco Malfoy?

“You are free to refuse, of course—” Robards started.

“I’ll do it.” Her bleeding heart was already in overdrive thinking about all the injustices he must’ve faced since starting. How could she truly call herself a Gryffindor if she wasn’t up to this task? Besides, she did need a new partner.

“Excellent,” Robards said. 

“That will be all then,” Minister Shacklebolt said. “You’re dismissed, Auror Granger.”

Hermione stood and took her leave, not missing the whispered “Well, that went smoother than expected” from the Minister on her way out. She smirked.

_ This should be interesting. _

She took the lift back down to the second level, but instead of turning toward the Auror HQ, she kept walking down the corridor. Malfoy’s office was just around the corner from the open floor where the other Aurors had their desks altogether. She assumed when she started that it had been to keep him from getting bullied by the others, but all it had done was foster a deeper divide between him and the rest of the crew. 

She raised her fist and frowned as she gave a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door of what was truthfully no more than a broom closet.

“Sorry, nobody down here but the Ministry’s most unwanted,” Malfoy drawled, slowly turning his chair around to see her. His eyes widened slightly before a mask of calm returned. “Granger. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She slid into the tiny room as gracefully as possible, her eyes roaming over the odd pictures he had affixed to the wall. “They didn’t tell you?” She now stood against the wall, but their knees were nearly touching.

Malfoy cleared the top of his desk, brushing what looked like a pile of sunflower seed shells into the bin and patted the edge of it. “You’re welcome to sit, if you like.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow but scooted over and perched on the corner of his desk so she could at least face him while talking. “I’m your new partner.”

He laughed for a good few seconds before gulping in a deep breath. “Wait, you’re serious?”

She nodded. “Just got out of a meeting with the Minister and Robards where they asked me.”

“And you didn’t tell them to fuck off?”

Now it was her turn to laugh, as if Hermione Granger would ever do such a thing. “Are you refusing my assistance? Because I’ll have you know not only am I trained Healer, but I also—”

“You mistake me, Granger,” he started, about to rest his hand on her knee, then promptly thought better of it and ran it through his hair, mussing it thoroughly. “I’m wondering how they convinced you that being my ‘partner’ would be a good career move.”

She leaned back a little, taking him in. Of course she had seen him in passing, but she had really looked at Malfoy in quite some time. He’d changed. They’d all gotten older, but he carried himself differently these days. He hunched a little in his chair like his height was a burden, there were slight worry lines on his forehead, and he had grown into his pointy features. “I had my reasons.”

He shrugged. “Your funeral. Or your career’s.”

“Were you always this much of a pessimist?”

"I've asked to be put in the field dozens of times, for dozens of bigger cases. They've denied me every time. And now they're suddenly agreeing, and sending you to join me? Pardon me for being a bit wary." 

Hermione took a deep breath. "I think you ought to have more faith in the leadership here—" 

Malfoy scoffed, turning in his chair again until his knee knocked her calf. He didn’t move it, but left their legs together, touching. “I have been a lot of things in my life, and most of them were wrong. So you’ll forgive me for having suspicions about everything, but in my experience, it’s better to question everything than to go on blind faith. We saw how that ended up the first time.”

“Yes, well. Robards thinks my Muggle relations experience will be of use to you. And I’m to submit detailed reports on our cases.”

“Ah. So they’ve sent you to spy on me. At least that mystery is cleared up.”

Hermione sighed. “My only allegiance is to the truth, Malfoy. I’m not concerned about whatever supposed agenda they might have. I vow to do my job to the best of my ability.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded.

* * *

Hermione Granger had changed. He couldn’t put his finger on it, exactly, but she seemed a little less tightly wound. Still wound pretty tight, but less so than before. And she had most certainly grown into her hair, which she often kept in a bun, but today was in a low ponytail, letting her curls fall down her back. 

He had vague recollections of Robards promising him a partner at long last, and said that more information would be forthcoming. He’d never tended to put much stock in promises, because they always had a way of falling through. No one wanted to do you any favors when your name was Draco Malfoy. But perhaps his hard work was finally being recognized.Then he’d remembered himself, and the bubble of hope had punctured. 

He’d hardened himself to whatever they had planned— whomever they had planned. But whatever he thought he’d prepared for, discovering they were siccing the Golden Girl on him was quite the surprise.

_ She  _ had been a surprise, from the moment she’d walked in, her wide eyes taking in the pictures he’d put on his wall for further review. The way she spoke, and moved, and even her scent—a lovely amber—but that was neither here nor there. He watched as she began scanning his evidence, her pink lips parting ever so slightly as she read.

“So, what are you working on?”

He smirked. “Tell me, Granger, do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

He expected her to laugh in his face, or tell him he was crazy, but instead she tapped her chin with her forefinger. “I hadn’t given it a ton of thought, but most Muggle scientists admit that the universe is so vast there must be life elsewhere, even if it’s only in the form of microscopic organisms.”

“Yes, well, what about these?” He handed her one of the photos he’d taken of Mr. Jones’ crop circles.

“It is interesting, but haven’t they figured out that these are a hoax? I remember reading an article a while back...”

“Two Muggle drunkards came forward and took credit for the majority of the crop circles in the eighties, but they claim to have done it with just a board and some string. A lot of these elaborate figures pop up overnight.”

She shrugged.

“You don’t find that the least bit compelling? What if I told you I took these pictures myself. This farmer is a neighbor of mine and he’s lost money from the destruction of his fields.”

“Then the perpetrators of the prank should be aptly punished—by the Muggle authorities.”

“These are my cases, Granger. This is what I do. The strange, unexplained phenomena that no one else wants to investigate. Do you know how many unsolved cases are sitting in the Auror archives? We have  _ magic _ and still can’t account for everything. In fact, there’s more that we can’t account for than what we can.” 

He waited, the silence heavy between them.  __

Draco didn’t expect her to understand. Or care. He knew better than most what tended to happen when strange things were forgotten and tucked away, swept under the rug. He’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to prevent that from happening with the cases that showed up on his desk.

“Well,” she finally said, kicking her feet around a little before hopping down from his desk. “I guess we should go talk to your neighbor then, shouldn’t we?”

Relief washed over him. “We should.”

He wondered how else Granger might surprise him. 

By the time they Apparated to Wiltshire, the sun was beginning its descent towards the horizon. Draco led Hermione straight to the hill to get the full view of the crop circle before they spoke to Mr. Jones.

“Wow.” She let out a low whistle. “It looks even more impressive in person.”

“Now do you see why I don’t think a pair of pissed teenagers did this?”

“Yes, but that still doesn’t automatically mean it’s aliens.”

Draco shrugged. "Just repeating the most common theory on the Internet.” He ignored her shocked look and continued. “We’ll go and question the farmer who owns this land, but residents in the area have been seeing strange lights at night. It still doesn’t explicitly point to extraterrestrial interference, but just try to keep an open mind.”

She held her hands up in supplication. “I’m open.”

“Good.” He found himself grinning in her direction, but quickly schooled it away.

Unfortunately, when they rapped on the door, Mr. Jones wasn’t home. His wife answered Granger’s inquiry, stating that he’d gone into town on a supply run, before her eyes flicked to him. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Jones. My name is Draco Malfoy. I spoke with your husband earlier in the week.”

Mrs. Jones’ long gray hair had been piled atop her head in a crown of braids. “I remember. You’re the fit young fellow that jogs along the path and has all the neighborhood ladies in a tizzy.”

Granger snorted, and he shot her a look. “Yes, I do take my morning run through here. I also happen to be a private investigator.” He showed her his manufactured identification the Ministry had provided. “I wanted to ask a few questions about your crop circle.”

“Well, we were fast asleep and didn’t see anything,” she said. “But I do remember these bright lights waking me up in the middle of the night. Went right back to sleep, but it was odd.”

Hermione spoke up then. “And had you seen the lights before, Mrs. Jones?”

Mrs. Jones looked Granger up and down carefully. “This your wife, Mr. Malfoy?”

He couldn’t help the smirk at the edge of his mouth. “No, she’s my partner.”  _ That _ felt weird to say.

“We had seen the lights a time or two before, I suppose. But this is Wiltshire. Everybody knows strange things happen here. Stonehenge and all that ancient hocus pocus.” Mrs. Jones shrugged. “Do you two want to come in? I need to finish dinner before my husband gets back.”

“No, but thank you for your time.” Draco nodded his gratitude and they turned to leave.

“I’ll give you the strange lights, but I’m still not convinced this wasn’t man-made.” Granger stood with her hands on her hips.

“Alright then, Granger. Why don’t we try a little experiment then?”

She seemed intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

Hermione sipped from her coffee cup as she walked up over the hill from the Apparition point. “Malfoy, this better be good if you have me up this early.”

“Wow, so Hermione Granger is not a morning person. Who would’ve seen that coming?” He held a sack of supplies in one hand. “We’ll get this out of the way first and then head into the office. Shouldn’t take too long if a pair of teens managed it overnight, right?”

She recognized the path they were walking down even before the steel gates came into view. The wards kept them hidden until one veered close enough. She remembered that much. “You didn’t say—”

“Fuck,” he started. “I’m sorry, Granger. I don’t have enough land with my Muggle cottage so I asked Mother if we could use the grounds. I didn’t think.”

“No it’s fine. We’re not going inside, right?” She wasn’t sure if she could handle seeing that room again.

“No, we’re not.”

“Then it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” He reached out a hand to touch her arm.

Hermione jolted, looking up to see the genuine concern in his grey eyes. Had he gotten taller since his trial? Suddenly, she felt completely safe in his presence, something she hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He led her around the grounds of the Manor, off to the side where he promptly transfigured the grass into a wheat field big enough for their experiment. “We’re going to try this the Muggle way first. But, to make it easier—” he pulled out his wand and cast a charm on the field. A glowing red line showed the pattern they would attempt to press into the grain.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Don’t you want to be thorough, Granger?” He grabbed a board and handed her one. “Let’s get bending.”

Two hours later and Hermione felt like she’d need another shower and a change of clothes before heading into the office. They weren’t even halfway done with the pattern. “I think you’ve made your point, Malfoy.”

He was sweating as well, and she tried to avert her eyes from the way his shirt clung to his chest. “Fine. This is rather barbaric. Who would do this for a laugh?”

Hermione nodded, pulling her wand out and trying another charm she thought might bend the stalks enough. It worked, but still didn’t look right—not quite as precise as the other one. “I can’t imagine some drunk kids doing this for fun.” She put her hands on her hips. “So what now?”

“I should think we’d better shower.” A blush tinged his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Whatever she had expected working with Draco Malfoy to be like, this hadn’t been it. She didn’t actively hate it. She agreed to meet him at the office after a quick shower and change. More interestingly still, she found herself looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/kudos are life!
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://monsterleadmehome.tumblr.com/), if you like.
> 
> I am going to try to update this fic every two weeks, barring any unforeseen obstacles. So the next update should be March 7th.
> 
> If you like The X-Files, or spooky things in general, consider checking out my podcast. My bestie and I talk all things paranormal, conspiracy theory, and true crime while we sip a cocktail or two. We're called Booze and Ghouls, and we're available on [Apple](https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/booze-and-ghouls/id1535555554?uo=4), [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/show/4tB2JZQN65UP34LKFSxp4S), or wherever you listen to podcasts!


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